


Between a Rock and a Hard Place

by D0ll



Category: American Gods (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-04
Updated: 2017-08-04
Packaged: 2018-12-10 20:59:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11699805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/D0ll/pseuds/D0ll
Summary: Will Mad Sweeney pick Wednesday's side or Laura's? An old God he hates but who promises everything he wants. Or the dead wife who promises him nothing but who he's growing feelings for.





	Between a Rock and a Hard Place

**Author's Note:**

> I read in Pablo's recent interview "I’m really curious to see where the conflict with Wednesday goes and what side he comes down on; whether he’s going to help Laura take him out or if he’s gonna save his spot at the table with the rest of the gods, because he’s definitely been angling for a seat at the table." And that inspired this fic. 
> 
> You can read more of the interview here http://metro.co.uk/2017/07/12/american-gods-pablo-schreiber-on-head-splitting-fight-scenes-and-mad-sweeneys-future-in-season-2-6775112/#ixzz4ojyL7em9

Sweeney always felt dirty when he was done talking to Wednesday, not that he was the cleanest person, and lately he was lucky to be able to catch a shower between driving from shitty town to shitty town. Wednesday was another kind of filth. One that a few soap bubbles couldn't wipe away. Every time they shook hands he felt foul. Everyone who came under Wednesday's influence changed he broke them down and made their souls tainted and hearts black. How long would it be until he made Shadow someone else? Would Laura still want him then? When her puppy is a wolf? A person she doesn't recognize.

Sweeney slammed the door behind him the heavy oak door shutting out Wednesday's hearty mocking laugh.

An unpleasant creature Salim called him. Sweeney had been called worst by a saint when he was still a man, his spirit was already dark then. Essie and others like her had opened his heart, but so much time had passed since then he was easy pickings for Wednesday. Sweeney didn't like him and knew the feeling was mutual. He had been a king, now look at him, following Wednesday's bidding like a fucking servant. Begging for scraps like a dog underneath the gods' dinner table. But he had been willing to do anything to give him a seat at the gods' table and a dignified end. A warrior's death.

Sweeney lifted up his hand to wipe his face and paused to look at his palms. Half expecting his hands to be red with blood. Blood that he could never wipe off. Gods, he needed a drink.

He found the kitchen the bright spring pastels colors contrasted with the bleakness from the outside he could see from the large windows. A gray cloudy sky, dead grass and dirt stretched as far as the eye could see. On what had been a warm and happy spring day until Wednesday threw a diva fit and convinced Eostre otherwise. The Jesus crew and the new gods scurried out like rats abandoning a sinking ship. Now the mansion was empty except for Sweeney, Laura, Wednesday, Shadow and Eostre. He used the opportunity to raid the pantry for food and booze.

He found aged wine and champagne it wasn't no Southern Comfort and coke but it would have to do. "Maybe I could find you some rubbing alcohol in the bathroom cupboard, dead wife." He said taking an abandoned tray of finger food and stuffing cucumber sandwiches in his mouth. Sweeney raised his head expecting to see her boney arms folded over her chest, eyebrows narrowed as she ordered him to hurry up and pour her a fucking drink. But there was no Laura, he was alone and she was talking to Shadow, as the minutes dragged on slowly the more anxious he became. He should feel lucky his nostrils got a break from her stench and his ears a break from her insults and the constant buzzing of flies flying around her corpse. But he wasn't. Sweeney had grown used to her presence he enjoyed their banter. The silence reminded him how alone he'd been for years. Maybe Shadow knew a cure. Maybe they drove off into the sunset to return to normality leaving him and Wednesday to fight their own war.

"Got some for me?" Dead wife's slim legs approaching him he tried to stand up to greet her causing him to hit his head against the cabinet. Leave it to Laura to hurt him even without trying. She didn't notice his accident already grabbing a bottle for herself.

"Presumptuous of you. I could drink all this by myself." He could. Sweeney was a heavy drinker as a man. After centuries of building up tolerance he could out drink dozen men. But the bottles and glasses were separated in two neat piles. But Laura didn't call him out on his bluff this time only grabbing a bottle wordlessly. She swallowed it in one gulp and then looked down at the floor like she was in her own world not looking at him, speaking to him or acknowledging his presence.

Sweeney broke the silence wanting her attention on him and needing to know what happened between Shadow and her but forcing his voice to sound casual. "How did the reunion with lover boy go?" Laura remained quiet as she poured another bottle of wine to the edge of the glass and took a long swig. Sweeney joined her popping off the cap and drinking straight from the bottle and frowned afterwards at the sweetness.

"I just have to get him away from Wednesday." Sweeney scoffed when will she finally learn that it's over? Even though it would kill him to have Laura and Shadow live happily ever after white picket fence and all he'd do anything to make her happy. Even if it meant her reuniting with Shadow. But you can't force someone to be love you when they've stopped. A lesson he learned the hard way. After a believer has stopped believing no amount of bad luck will return their faith.

Laura scowled at his scoff "And what were you doing?" She asked her voice already filled with suspicion.

"The Jesus pack and I were turning water bottles into the fine red wine you see before you." Some off color joke like that about His Holiness led to him being cursed in the first place, he might be a leprechaun with a mohawk now but some things never change. Laura looked as pleased as Saint Ronan had by his sense of humor. The bald, humorless fuck.

Earlier as they walked through the mansion she was taken a back by the grandness of Eostre's place. While Sweeney was unmoved by it all. She was even impressed by the pantry the grand vintage wine collection, when she was alive Laura was used to settling for cheap bag wine. He could be at home at a flea bag motel or a fancy mansion like this. Money was trivial to him. She watched him throw gold coins away like empty gum wrappers. And it annoyed her that something she'd always worried about, money, he could conjure up with a flick of his wrist. Even with his dirty clothes and unwashed and unshaven face his attitude, like he was still a king, made him fit in better than her. And it endlessly annoyed her.

Laura silently placed her hands on her hips waiting for more information. Sweeney bided his time not answering her question by tipping the crystal glass back and forth watching the dark red liquid swirl around the crystal glass. For a moment the wine looked like blood covering a battlefield. Like the vision he had in the flames so long ago. Laura smacked the bottle out his hand some of it splattered on his jacket but most of it landed on the floor with the shattered glass. It happened so quickly he wasn't sure if it was a real vision or his imagination getting the better of him.

"Listen we need to take Wednesday out. For me and Shadow." There it was again. Everything revolved around her. Even in that train wreck of a motivational speech her name came first and the husband she was supposed to love so much was nothing but an after thought. Their whole journey revolved around her. Laura wanted Shadow back so they drive cross country to find him. Laura wanted to live again so they track down the goddess of rebirth. Laura wanted Salim to have his fucking taxi back so he knocks out the owner of an ice cream truck and freezes his ass off the whole way. No mention of what was in it for him to go against the god of war. Sweeney raises a skeptical eyebrow at her wordlessly asking what was in it for him. His decision had already been made. But no reason she needed to know that. Sweeney wanted to see her panic over him, just once.

Laura suddenly got it. She couldn't force Sweeney to side with her. She could torture him for information. But she couldn't force him to join her side if he didn't want to. Sure he could go through the motions under pressure from her but then betray her the first chance he gets. She couldn't keep an eye on him 24/7. And why would he want to help her? The chances of him getting his coin back were slim if there was no one else who could resurrect her. And Wednesday offered him what he wanted. A noble death and a place with the old gods. While all she had to offer him was more ball busting and insults and a slight chance of getting his coin back.

Laura looked down terrified. She felt her body decomposing more and more every minute and without Sweeney's help who else did she have? Not Shadow, not anymore. And she didn't know anyone else connected to this world other than Salim who knew less than she did and could be anywhere .

"So where to next dead wife?" Sweeney asked walking a head of her fishing a cigarette pack out of his pocket. He held the door open for her and handed her one before she could ask for a cigarette.

Laura placed it in her mouth and took the lighter he offered. She was amazed that Sweeney was still on her side. And how fast and easy he had made his choice. She thought of a sentence that wouldn't make her sound vulnerable or like she needed him and how happy she was he was still there for her. "So uh, Wednesday doesn't need you any more?"

It felt incredibly good at the moment to tell that prick of a god to fuck off back to Norway. His hands felt a little cleaner and heart felt like a weight been lifted off his chest. But afterwards the weight of his decision sunk in. Sweeney wasn't regretful he would've done it again with out hesitation. But he realized the gravity of his choice and all for the dead wife next to him. He's such a dumb fuckin' prick.

Sweeney blew out a puff of smoke and watched it disappear in to the cold sky. Lifeless soil stretched out before him, hours before birds were chirping and flowers blooming, now nothing but famine and death was in the horizon. All thanks to Wednesday somehow he had convinced Eostre starving the people until they worship you again was a good idea. Sweeney could have told her that no amount of bad luck can restore dead belief from personal experience. It was a dumb fucking plan. This wasn't the first time Sweeney questioned the old gods' intentions. Not that they cared one way or the other about him or his opinions. Why did they have to inflect so much pain on human kind? Sweeney was jaded about being forgotten but he didn't want to punish people. The worst he gave people who stop worshipping was bad luck. And that was a rule he was required to follow not one he had made. Wednesday and gods like him wanted the world to bleed and human sacrifices in their name. Sweeney yearned to not be a joke anymore, recognition and that's why he followed Wednesday. He never believed in Wednesday's doomed cause for an instant. "No." Sweeney shook his head, "He wanted me to fight his war. He promised me a seat the table with the rest of the gods."

Laura was so set on her mission she didn't have time to wander about Sweeney or his colorful past. About having been a king then a bird. Or about Salim's jinn. Or about the 50 some odd Jesus who had been casually walking around Eostars mansion. But now curiosity got the better off her. Because she couldn't comprehend Sweeney's motivation for sticking by her side when she had pretty much nothing to offer him. And she hated being left in the dark. "So why didn't you?"

Sweeney shrugged "I never liked that asshole anyway. Besides you have me coin."

That wasn't it. He wasn't being straight with her and it angered her so she insulted him. "Is this because you are a masochist for the pain I cause you? Because I'm sure the good of war has all kind of fun toys. Chains, whips." This is how they always communicated through insults and jokes. It was easier to mock Sweeeney then it was to tell him how grateful she was but this time Sweeney wasn't having it. He stopped walking and stood his back straight, tall, proud and austere like the king he had been. Reduced to the smiling face on a cereal box he still held himself like one. Even with her supernatural strength Laura felt small and insignificant as he glared down at her blue eyes piercing through her.

"Must you make everything so crude." His voice sounded tender and hurt and Laura might have noticed if she wasn't so busy laughing.

"This coming from the guy who can turn everything into an anal metaphor?!" She scoffed.

Sweeney stepped forward, eyebrows narrowed and mouth pulled into a cold hard line like he hated her. But she couldn't help but notice the wetness forming at the corners of his eyes. Anger and hurt fighting for control. When he spoke his voice was choked like he was holding back from crying out and he trembled slightly. "I give up everything that mattered to me for you. I put my coin back in your chest." Laura furrowed her eyebrows confused then drew back in shock as she realized what happened after they crashed. She gasped her hands coming up the grasp her heart where the gold moved from her belly to. "I give up my spot with the gods for you. Not cause I expected anything in return. Not even a thank you not or even acknowledgment but to mock me?" He looked up bitterly at the sky and shook his head. "But that would be too much to ask from you who's never put anyone above yourself."

The accusation doesn't even hurt. Sweeney was right she never put anyone before herself. This was a dog eat dog world and Laura's pessimistic mind thought everyone else was out for themselves so why not put herself first also?Death couldn't break her selfish habits. Even her mission to get Shadow back was to make herself feel better emotionally and physically. Laura knew this in her subconscious mind not that she was ready to say it out loud. But Sweeney just proved her wrong. He wasn't out for himself anymore, but her and she stomped all over him.

Sweeney was walking away from her. He never walked away from her but to take a piss and she could see by the angry way he shoved by her and kicked things out of his way that wasn't his intention. "Wait!" Laura called out as loud as she could, which wasn't very loud anymore her vocal chords we. The alcohol she drank certainly didn't help the problem.

Inspite of himself Sweeney stopped and turned back around to face her. If he wasn't careful she'd realize she had him wrapped around her gray boney finger. Shit, she already knew.

"What now?" He asked gruffly, "Want to hurry up to find Shadow or do want to make fun of my big feet again?"

 _Honk. Honk_. Laura refrained herself from making another joke. "No, look I'm" Sweeney tilted his head at her as she struggled to get the words out. "I'm sorry. Happy now?" Laura flung up her arms she hated apologizing and the look Sweeney was giving her wasn't making it any easier. He looked pleased with himself grinning down at her.

"Come again, I don't think I heard you quite right?" She crossed her arms he knew how to push every one of her buttons and he loved doing it. Laura poked him in the chest which sent Sweeney crumbling down. She walked over his prone body, he lifted up his head to see the back of her as she walked away, her horde of flies persistently following after her. 

"Wait up!" Sweeney called out jumping to his feet, "You're not leaving without me, Dead wife." Laura didn't slow her pace and Sweeney just barely managed to catch up to her.

There was a sly smile on her face, "Wednesday wants a war, let's go give him one."


End file.
